


A jewel couldn't compare

by Squidbitch



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Fluff, Happy Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 11:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17140553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squidbitch/pseuds/Squidbitch
Summary: They're in love.





	A jewel couldn't compare

Juno stumbles into his apartment, and immediately goes to the coffee maker. His hands are jittery and uncoordinated. His mind is fuzzy, but alert. Focussed around whatever his mind is on. 

“Juno?” He jumps hard, spilling the coffee beans on the counter. 

Nureyev stands there, lanky and tall. He has this worried look on his face that he always gets when he can read that Juno isn't doing well. In this case it's probably because he obviously hasn't gotten enough sleep. 

That look pisses him off. He throws a scowl Nureyev's way, before he starts to clean up the mess. 

“Juno, you look dead on your feet.” He tells him. 

Juno starts the coffee, and throws some papers on the desk. “Great observation Nureyev, now shut up so I can work.” He sits down, and starts working. The kid ran away three months ago. Why was the mother so hesitant to contact someone, and then-why contact a private eye? She doesn't want very many people knowing about it. There's something she isn't telling him. The kid might not even be really missing. There's something he's missing. What isn't she telling him? There must be something. 

Peter bends down next to his desk. “It's my first day back on Mars with you. I hate seeing you too wrapped up in your work to even talk to me.” He mutters softly in his ear. “You need sleep, Juno.”

“Couldn't sleep if I tried, and while I'm awake I should work on this case.” He snaps at him. He isn't going to waste the fact that he's awake on making idle chit chat. Even if it is with Nureyev. 

Nureyev wraps his arms around his neck from behind, and starts tracing his body slowly. He presses his face into his hair, nosing into the curls. He's so warm and soft. It's so soothing to have another person's touch that isn't someone punching him, or grabbing him. 

Juno shifts away, and Peter sits on the desk, not on the papers. “Honestly, Juno, there is medicine to help you sleep, I know people that take them. I have and idea on what might work-”

Juno cuts him off with his own idea. He grabs the front of his shirt, and kisses him. His head tilts, their mouths open, automatically seeking one another. It seems that Juno has surprised himself as well, or maybe that's just lack of sleep, but he doesn't expect Peter to automatically stick his tongue in his mouth. 

Juno does remember standing, just knows that he is. Pushed up against the desk, his knees parting to let Nureyev slot himself between. Its messy. Their teeth hit one another, Juno's split lip hurts, but that doesn't matter. This is the only thing that's felt good in days. He's been running himself ragged, figuring out cases, running away from nightmares, running  _ in  _ cases. Whatever to keep him occupied. 

Peter's hands are everywhere. Anyone else might not be able to keep up. Juno can though, even running on no sleep for days. He's a detective, his mind runs fast, often over thinking, eye darting from one edge of a room to another. He knows the rhythm of Peter's hands on his body well by now. One running on the length of his thighs, to his ribs. One having his fingers hook under his knee to pull him closer, before squeezing at his chest, where there's nothing but two nipple rings and muscle. He can tell by the way Nureyev lingers on the dip of his sternum, that he knows Juno hasn't eaten in a long time. It's past the point of really bothering him. He's forgotten meals, and gotten used to the dull ache. When was the last time he ate, anyways? Maybe four days ago, when Rita gave him a pastry. That mother gave him some tea, does that count? 

But it doesn't matter now, because Nureyev is kissing the valley of his collarbone, and making his way behind his ear. 

“Nureyev,” Juno pants hotly into the open air. 

Peter hums softly. Then breathes hot on Juno's neck as he talks. “I love you.” He whispers, rubbing at Juno's cock through his trousers. 

Juno's moans before he can stop it.  _ Lack of sleep,  _ he tells himself, but Peter can take him apart as thoroughly and quickly as he wants to, and Juno couldn't possibly complain about that. Not right now anyways. “Don't say that.” He pants, tightening his grip on the back of Nureyev's shirt. “Not right-ah! Right now.” He curses himself for that moan, but then-why should he? This is Peter, after all. He's seen him at his worst and at his best, so does it really matter? 

He can hear that egomaniac's smirk when he grazes his teeth on his earlobe, and pulls the hand rubbing at his cock away. “Bed?”

Juno keeps his head in Peter's shoulder as he calms down a notch. Peter laughs at that, and Juno punches him in the shoulder for good measure. 

They make their way to to bedroom, Juno stumbling a little. He's running on coffee and the bribe of sex, he can't be expected to be able to walk in a straight line. 

When they reach the bed Peter runs a hand under his shirt, feeling his tits. Juno moans, wrapping his legs around his waist to draw him closer. “Are you sure you want to?” Nureyev asks, and Juno wants to kick him. 

“Of course I do. Hell, maybe it'll help me sleep. Now hurry up.” he snaps at him. 

Peter blinks twice from above him, before a smile breaks across his whole face as he gives out a small laugh. Juno looks away. It should be illegal, looking as handsome as that, around someone like Juno.

It takes them a second to get properly naked. Between Peter's three piece suit that Juno thinks he might just wear to impress Juno (Juno's not impressed), and Juno's assortment of piercings, it takes a second. Once they're both finally done, Juno lays back down, and Peter comes up between his legs, an arm on either side of his head. He kisses him deeply, sliding their tongues together until Juno can't help but arch his back in response, and close his eyes to focus on the feeling. 

Peter slides his hands from his hips, to his ribs, touching every part of him all soft and gentle. No one else has ever touched Juno like this. Like it's their favorite thing to do. Something on the edge of worship. That thought only gets stronger when Peter practices the curve of his waist, and says, something below a whisper, “my goddess.” His hands trail up to his collarbone, then to where his arms lay on the bed. He slides up to his forearms, and Juno let's out a soft breath. 

There's a moment where Peter doesn't move at all. It takes him a second to figure out why. “Did you do these?” He asks softly. It's so out of the blue that it startles Juno. There's nothing accusatory about it, and that almost makes it worse. 

“No.” Juno says automatically, but it's a lie. Clear as day. Healing scratch marks that are turning into scabs on the inside of his arms. He squeezes his eyes shut. “Yeah.” he doesn't want to talk about it right now. He's pretty sure that if Peter says something about it, he'll kick him out of the apartment. 

Nureyev must read that, or sense it, or just understand in that irritating way he just  _ does  _ sometimes, because he kisses Juno's lips soft and quick, before zipping his fingers into Juno's. “We'll talk about it when you've had some rest.” He tells him. Juno can live with that. 

He takes his time preparing Juno. The lube on his fingers is slicking him up on the inside, stretching him. Juno keeps his legs spread, digging his nails into Peter's back. His other hand-the one not inside of Juno-keeps touching every part of him in that worshipping way. Like Juno is something precious, a treasure. He can't understand why he would do that, but that doesn't mean he wants him to stop. 

Finally Peter lines himself up, and pushes inside, quick, just how Juno wants it. 

Juno can't help the gasp that escapes his throat, feeling every inch of this man. This impossible thief, this  _ Peter Nureyev _ . He hasn't been fucked since Peter left, so this fullness and stretch feel so good right now. He hasn't been craving it, really, been too tied up with work to even touch himself properly. But he has missed it. Not just his cock inside him, either. The closeness, Peter's shaking breaths. The way he grabs at parts of Juno's body. His lidded eyes when he gets like that, watching as Juno comes apart just as much as Peter does. 

Juno bob's his head back, gasping. “ _ God, _ ” Peter has a slow but insistent pace. Juno doesn't think he could handle anything more than that right now. He feels amazing inside of him, moving, causing moans to rise in his throat, and sparks of electric pleasure well up inside of him. He can't keep quiet, either. Every moan and whimper bypasses his brain, and he feels too good to care about that right now. 

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Juno moans, clawing at his lover's back as he wraps a hand around Juno's cock, and sucking soft bruises into his neck. They'll be gone by morning. “Kiss me.” Juno whines. If he were in an embarrassed mood, he might say that it's just to shut him up, but he really doesn't care right now. So Peter kisses him deeply, until Juno can think of anything but his hands on him, his tongue in his mouth, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of him. It's like that for a long time, not reaching towards a climax, just feeling how good this feels right now. Living in the moment, and loving the constant feeling of being filled. Juno doesn't live in the moment as much as he might want to. His intrusive thoughts make it a bit hard sometimes. All the time. But they're not happening right now, so he let's himself have something. 

It almost takes him by surprise, when he finally orgasms. His back curls into an arch, his nails will leave scratch marks on his back along with crescent shaped indents, and everything goes white. His eyes are rolling in the back of his head, but that's secondary to the feeling of Peter fucking him through an orgasm. For a second that feels like forever, Juno stays like that. The only thing he can think to register is the pleasure running through him, better than any drug he's ever tried, and the hoarse moans tearing themselves from his lungs. 

A sound climbs from the back of Peter's throat, and Juno looks at him, coming down just in time to see him come. He looks submerged in religious ecstasy, Juno's name moaning from his lips like a prayer.

When they're done, sweaty and panting and _perfect,_ Juno can't help that he starts to doze. Peter laughs a little, kissing him slow on the lips before pulling out. “I'll clean up the mess, just sleep for me, love.”

“Mmm.” He shifts into a more comfortable position, and falls asleep. 


End file.
